All Paths Lead Straight To You
by elfe136
Summary: Something happened at John's bachelor party that he did not expect. John/Mary, John/Sherlock.


Here it is: My first ever Johnlock fic.

I got the idea yesterday. I think I dreamed about Johnlock. And the idea was there.

Enjoy!

Hannah x

PS. It was also inspired by two lines of the song _Like You_ by Evanescence.

* * *

_And though I may have lost my way_

_All paths lead straight to you_

His alarm clock wakes him at seven o'clock. For a moment, John tries to figure out what day it is, what happened last night, still dizzy with sleep, until the memories come back.

He wakes to find arms around him, not Mary's soft, gentle arms that he is used to, but the strong, wiry arms of Sherlock Holmes. Only slowly, the memories return.

Today is John Watson's wedding day. He's going to get up, shower, get dressed in his best suit, meet Mary at the church and say his vows. Yesterday, it was a perfectly good plan. Yesterday, he was still reasonably sure that this was what he wanted. But now, everything looks different.

Sherlock stirs and mutters incomprehensibly. John tries to remember what happened the night before. Everything is a little fuzzy. He knows it was the alcohol's fault, they played drinking games and Sherlock had a lot more than he should have had - in fact, John is pretty sure that this was the first time he has seen Sherlock drunk. And John himself has had quite a lot to drink as well.

After the drinking games, they played spin-the-bottle. John has no clue whose idea that was. Mycroft and Lestrade had already left by that point, so only a few people were left. It would have been embarrassingly silly if everyone hadn't been so drunk.

And then Someone had dared Sherlock to kiss John. And Sherlock had done so without hesitation. And John could feel Sherlock's emotions, and himself melting into that short kiss, and when everyone else had left, they had somehow started kissing again and again and more and eventually gone to bed together and John was positive that they hadn't had sex but they fell asleep cuddling and wake up cuddling.

And, God, today is John's wedding day.

"I feel horrible", Sherlock says into the bedsheets.

"Serves you right, drinking like that", John replies warmly and pats Sherlock's head a little awkwardly. His flatmate's dark curls feel soft under his fingers.

"I'm not coming to the wedding", Sherlock says.

At first, John feels like protesting. _You're my best man, Sherlock. Of course you're coming. Don't be silly, just because a little hangover?_

But it's so much more than just a little hangover. John can feel it too, that small, desperate feeling of _This isn't what I want_. He sighs and forces himself to sit up first, then slowly stand up. His hangover is okay. He's had worse. No, the hangover is definitely not the worst thing he has to deal with.

He goes to find some painkillers and water and takes some before bringing them to Sherlock, who is still lying in bed.

"I'll be right back", he says and goes to the living room. His mobile is lying on the table. John flips it open and rings Mary's number.

Mary is, in fact, the most wonderful woman John has ever met. They get on like a house on fire, they can talk about anything. Mary is the first and only of John's girlfriends who was never jealous of Sherlock, and Sherlock approves of Mary. Which doesn't mean Sherlock likes her, but it's definitely a start. John is sure he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Settle down. Maybe even children. He's sure that that's what he wants.

Or at least, he was sure, until yesterday.

And now everything looks a little different.

Mary answers the phone after a few seconds. "John?"

"Hi, Mary", he says nervously. "I - I hope I didn't wake you?"

Mary laughs. "It's not that early. What is it?"

Mary knows him too well, John thinks. She knows from the tone of his voice whether he only calls because he's bored at work, to talk to her, to make sure she's okay, or to tell her he's going to come later, or whether he calls because it's something important. And this is something important and she knows.

"I -" John has no idea what to say, because he can't even describe, much less explain, the thoughts and emotions raging through him. "I think I need more time", he finally says.

Mary is silent for a few seconds. When she speaks, her voice is crisp as if she doesn't really care, but John knows he hurt her and he hates himself for doing so.

"I understand. I half expected it anyway. It's a shame, really, now that everybody's here."

She's right. John's sister and her girlfriend have travelled to London, as well as Mary's extended family. Some have even come from the continent. Mary has family everywhere. If they call off the wedding now... John sighs.

"I'm sorry, Mary. It's... I know it's horrible of me to do this. But it's - it's all happening so fast. Too fast. I need time to think."

The silence at the other end of the phone is a little too understanding. Eventually, Mary says, "It's Sherlock, isn't it?"

She doesn't say that in a jealous way. She's met Sherlock and she's aware of the connection her fiancé and his flatmate share. More than once, she has suspected them to be a couple - before she got together with John and afterwards - but it was never jealousy. John knows that Mary will accept him either way, that she will love him as boyfriend, fiancé, husband, but also just as a friend.

He hates to do this to her.

"Don't worry, John", she says, her voice gentle. John realises he didn't answer her question, though his silence was probably answer enough. "I understand."

"Thank you", he says. It's barely more than a whisper. "I guess I'll start calling everyone."

"I'll take care of that, John", Mary says. "It's okay."

She is such an amazing woman. John sighs.

"I'm sorry, Mary, I'm so sorry. Can I - can I come over later?"

"Of course. And stop apologising. I understand."

He can almost hear her smile.

"See you later, John."

She hangs up. John puts down his phone, still wondering what the hell he has done to deserve Mary and her love. And what the hell is wrong with him for rejecting this.

He slowly goes into Sherlock's bedroom. Sherlock is sitting on his bed, holding his head, groaning a little bit. John sits down next to him.

"The wedding's off, Sherlock."

Sherlock looks up, surprised. "Why?"

"You know why."

John can tell that, to him, this is good news. He still frowns. "You shouldn't have called off your wedding, John. Not because of me."

"I had to, Sherlock. How can I go there and get married if I don't even know if that's what I really want?"

Again, Sherlock looks mildly surprised. "I thought you wanted to marry Mary."

"So did I", John says. He feels slightly exhausted. This day, it's already too much for him.

"I knew there was a reason why I don't engage in relationships", Sherlock says, sounding vaguely amused. "Too much sentiment. You're already sorry for calling off the wedding. You're probably going to change your mind again. It's all so dull. Not to mention illogical."

"Illogical, Sherlock?", John says, a little angry. "Illogical? You were the one who kissed _me_!"

"I was drunk", Sherlock says coolly.

"Drunkenness reveals what soberness conceals", John answers no less coldly. "What happened there, Sherlock?"

For the first time today, Sherlock actually looks him in the eyes. For a moment, they simply look at each other. Then Sherlock says, "I kissed you."

"Oh, you don't _say_."

Another moment of silence. Then John says, _very_ uncertainly, because he is _pretty_ sure that it's the wrong thing to say: "Don't you think that - there's a chance - that you might, ah, have - fallen in love? With me?"

Sherlock's eyes narrow. John takes it as a good sign that his friend doesn't shoot back immediately, but actually takes the time to think about this very serious question.

"I don't... no, John, it's impossible."

John waits, because he feels that it's not everything Sherlock has to say.

"I value you as a friend and I enjoy your company. You're not - boring, I'm not bored when you're around, and sometimes I think you're the only person in the world who actually appreciates me for what I am. It would be logical for someone on my position to fall in love with you, but I'm sure I'm not, because I don't fall in love."

It's so much like Sherlock that John can hardly imagine Sherlock being any different, under any circumstance, and still there was yesterday, when Sherlock kissed him and kissed him, and it was definitely Sherlock who kissed John and not John who kissed Sherlock.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

John sighs. And thinks that this is probably the best he can get out of Sherlock for the moment.

x

He tells Mary everything. Mary lights a cigarette and listens to him without saying a word. When he finishes, she offers him her cigarette and he takes it without thinking. John normally doesn't smoke, but this is no normal situation.

"To be honest, John", Mary says, "I wasn't too surprised when you called this morning. I expected it to happen sooner - in fact, I'm not even sure why you proposed to me in the first place."

John is rather shocked, not so much by her words (though that too), but by the imperturbable calm with which she says them. By how calmly she questions his love for her.

"I proposed to you because at that time, I wanted to spend my life with you", he says. "I still wanted that yesterday."

"I gathered that", Mary answers. "But now you're not sure what you feel for me, and what you feel for Sherlock Holmes, and you feel like you have to decide which one of us you'll spend the rest of your life with. But John", she leans a little closer, "I don't think you have to make that choice."

"I don't know what you mean." John is confused. Why is Mary saying this?

"I'm saying that you can stay with him - and have a relationship with me - or you can have a relationship with him, and be friends with me - either way, I don't mind. It's all okay. That is, of course, if Sherlock doesn't mind either."

John thinks that that will be a brilliant conversation to look forward to. Explaining to Sherlock why he, John, thinks he can have an open relationship with both of them, or something of the like. To Sherlock, who doesn't even think he, Sherlock, is in love with John, even though John is almost certain Sherlock is. John is not, however, certain that he, John, loves Sherlock back. He sure wouldn't mind staying Sherlock's flatmate and friend-possibly-more for the rest of his days, and he has to admit that the idea of Sherlock being in love with him has a certain appeal. Like it's something he's waited for for a long time, or something he has hoped would happen.

Does that qualify as being in love?

And does Sherlock's I-enjoy-your-company-and-am-not-bored-when-you're-around qualify as being in love with John?

Sherlock is in the kitchen when John comes home. It's unusual for Sherlock to prepare lunch, or in fact anything for both of them, but today, he has done so. John sits down opposite his flatmate and friend-possibly-more (he is actually growing quite fond of the idea of an open relationship).

"I have thought about what you said, John", Sherlock says.

"And?"

"I drank too much last night", Sherlock says. "I don't usually drink. Something must have triggered my decision to drink, because it must have been a decision, a subconscious one as I wasn't aware of it, otherwise I wouldn't have allowed myself to get so drunk. The trigger for the decision could only be your impending wedding, as nothing else of significance either happened or was about to happen yesterday. This means I must have been uncomfortable with the thought of you getting married, as well as the consequences of this - that I will see much less of you, among other things. Upon analysing the facts - I got drunk more or less deliberately and took pleasure in kissing you and kissed you afterwards when all our guests had left and insisted we sleep in the same bed - there is only one logical conclusion."

Sherlock draws a breath, the first one, it seems, since he began to talk.

"I _am_ in love with you, John."

Only Sherlock could _deduce_ such a thing as love. John is, against his will, impressed.

"Well, I know I'm in love with Mary", John says carefully, "and I'm - I've heard of people who said they were in love with several people at once, so I guess - I'm in love with you too." His feeble deduction isn't nearly as logical or thought-through as Sherlock's, but John thinks it has to be enough, and Sherlock smiles. It's the kind of smile Sherlock wears when he's close to solving a difficult case. It says, _This isn't over, but it's definitely going in the direction I want it to._

John hopes this will make things easier.

"Mary says she wouldn't mind me having a - a relationship with you." John stumbles a bit over the word. As if the word _relationship_ somehow doesn't want to be anywhere near the concept of _Sherlock_. "I don't think I can live without either of you. Mary knows, I think she has always known, and she would be fine with an open relationship."

Sherlock looks at John for a moment. It's amazing how this man can get to a crime scene and find the most important clues in a matter of seconds, but doesn't seem to be able to get his head wrapped around the concept of an open relationship.

"By which you mean", he says eventually, "you're in a relationship with her, and with me at the same time, and both of us know about it and are fine with it."

"Uh, yeah. That's the general idea."

Sherlock smiles. It's a smile unlike any smile John has ever seen before, at least not from Sherlock. It's a smile that says, _Anything is fine as long as I can call you mine._


End file.
